


Dreams

by hazelandglasz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Body Worship, Dream Sex, Multi, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 15:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>littlecofiegirl said:</p><p>I just wanted to let stiles have a wet dream where he is caressed by both Derek and Lydia in the same time and stiles is half freaked out (and Lydia is the boss ordering Derek around what to do and he obeys like a puppy) *hides now*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams

When he’s awake, Stiles is all for keeping his friendship with Lydia. He consciously understands that they’re not meant to be that way.

Doesn’t stop them from being soulmates, but in a friendship, platonic way.

Same goes for pretty much anyone Stiles feels an attraction for - which doesn’t narrow it down in the slightest.

But when he’s asleep …

When he’s asleep, it’s not like Stiles can control his dreams.

Truth be told, between you and him? Given his recent “adult only” dreams, he’s not sure he would do a single thing to change them.

Most of the time, it starts the same way. He’s at the Hale house, fully refurnished and looking brand new - it’s homey, it’s comfy and Stiles doesn’t want to move from the couch.

He snuggles deeper in it, and looks around him. He can see right inside the kitchen, and here they are, Derek and Lydia, talking quietly together but with their eyes stuck to Stiles like they can’t look away.

Without a word, they come back in the living room, and Stiles feels like the main course of their meal.

Lydia is the first one to touch him, her hand cupping his face like the “real” Lydia so often does, the touch caring and affectionate.

Until her palm and her fingers trail down, forcing him to tilt his head toward Derek, who is sitting on his other side.

Derek’s green eyes are drilling holes into his forehead as Derek silently but calmly, face void of his usual grumpy look, studies his light freckles and his dark moles.

"Draw the patterns," Lydia commands softly, and instantly, Derek’s fingertips are against his cheek, delicately tracing from one mole to the other beauty mark.

On her side, Lydia presses kisses and kitten licks on Stiles’ neck.

She keeps one hand on the back of his head, brushing his buzz in just that way that sends shivers down Stiles’ spine and makes him purr.

Her other hand travels under his t-shirt, drawing nonsensical patterns on his skin. It doesn’t feel like she ignores the effect she has on him.

It feels like as always, Lydia Martin is fully aware of the effect she has on her whole environment, controlling it to her will.

Derek goes to touch Stiles’ tummy too, but Lydia slaps his hand away without even looking up. “Take his shirt off,” Lydia whispers against Stiles’ neck. 

Derek doesn’t even growl or snarl or mutter : he obeys Lydia like she is the Alpha, delicately taking Stiles’ shirt off and folding it over the back of the couch.

Lydia looks up from Stiles’ neck and smiles at Derek. “Good boy,” she says, rubbing her hand over Derek’s, over the spot she had slapped just seconds ago. ”And you can touch his legs.”

Derek’s eyes widen, and Stiles looks at the way the emerald turns forest green as he smiles. Opening Stiles’ pants, Derek slides them down, letting his fingers trail up and down Stiles’ thighs.

It’s like Derek is playing the piano, only the keys are Stiles’ moles (yes he has some on his legs too) : his touch is light and then he digs his fingers deeper, without any rhythm or reason, and the irregularity of his touch makes it all the more arousing.

Because there is no point in denying that fact : Stiles is aroused, he’s hard as a fucking rock and yet, he doesn’t want to come.

Not right now.

Of course, that’s when that surprisingly mature thought crosses his mind that Lydia leans over to lick and suck one of his nipple, sending another wave of heat in his tummy and of blood in his cock.

Stiles lets out a low moan, and a twin chuckle against his skin, on two different spots, is the only reply he gets from the other inhabitants of his dream.

A minute or a life-time later, Lydia’s hand slides from his other nipple down to his stomach, playing with the trail of hair that leads to his …um, private parts and he thinks he’s going to die, because simultaneously, Derek moves the hem of his boxers to mouth and suck at the junction between his hip and his leg.

"Together, 3,2,1 …" Lydia whispers and as her countdown finishes, they both reach for his genitals. Lydia gets to close her fingers around his cock and Derek brushes his fingers against his balls.

… and that’s usually when Stiles wakes up, ropes of semen on his stomach.

No, he wouldn’t change anything to his dreams.


End file.
